Save Me
by Bronwyn Fox
Summary: Tifa is in need of rescuing and inevitably reminds Cloud of his long-ago promise to always save her.


So I have to make a quick note and then I promise I'll leave you alone to read. I haven't written anything in a long time. And I normally don't do stories like this. Ever. I like action and a good bit of violence. Unfortunately, I couldn't get this out of my head until I wrote it down, so here it is. I don't own any of these complex characters. I know Cloud's a little out of character. I think, from what we see of him in the game and movie, the most real love he's capable of expressing is nodding in someone's general direction. I wanted more than that; hence me taking slight liberties with his behavior. But I tried. Feel free to give feedback.

A worldwide delivery business. Seriously?

The more he thought about it, the more Cloud realised this was a really dumb idea. He had for transportation only a motorcycle. And while it was a really reliable motorcycle, it couldn't prevent him from being out on the road for days at a time when someone far away from his home called and needed something NOW.

Cloud was on one of these multi-day deliveries when his phone rang. This in and of itself wasn't especially unusual. That it was Tifa wasn't exactly unusual, either. He wanted to ignore the call in favour of getting home earlier, but he'd been doing his best to be more open and supportive these days, so he took it.

"Hello?"

Tifa's voice came through the line (not unexpected, seeing as how it was from her number). Her tone was far from her normal bubbly enthusiasm. It was nearly inaudible, shaky, defeated . . . it was _broken_. Cloud's heart dropped as soon as he heard her utter her first word, with a sigh of almost palpable relief. "Cloud?"

He tried to remain calm. That's what he did, right? Remain calm. He took a deep, cleansing breath. "It _is_ my phone." Yeah, sarcasm probably wasn't the way to respond to the situation. But it was a good deal better than what he'd wanted to do: rip out his sword, hit the gas, and speed home faster than should be humanly possible.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just ..." She trailed off for a few seconds.

Cloud listened more carefully to the background noises coming from the phone. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could hear, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. "Tifa?"

She sighed again, and then said shakily, "Cloud, remember your promise?"

His promise? The one she'd constantly reminded him of even when he'd lost his mind and thought he was Zack? Uh, YEAH, he remembered that promise. "Yes?"

"You normally just show up when I need saving, so I hate to ask, but ... " She trailed off again.

This time, he did hit the gas on Fenrir. He was reaching for his weapon when he heard her voice continue in what sounded like a sobbed whisper: "Cloud, _help me_."

His phone disappeared into a convenient pocket. The sword came out. He cared for nothing in his way.

How could he not notice that she was in trouble? She'd been fine when he left. The bar had been fine, too. And the kids. Everything was fine, wasn't it? What if they'd been attacked? What if the remnants or Sephiroth himself had come back to try to kill them? What if a random dangerous bar patron had done something unimaginable to Tifa? Or Denzel or Marlene, for that matter?

By the time he roared into the city, he wasn't just on edge; Cloud was vibrating with pent-up adrenalin. The hair-raising ride that cut his return time in half hadn't helped with that. So strong were the emotions and worry in him that he didn't bother to really park his motorcycle. He simply drove up to the stairs, dumped the bike, and went in the bar - _through_ the door. Splinters of wood and leftover hinges flew past him. He didn't notice.

The bar was empty. The whole downstairs floor of the house was empty. Sword at the ready, Cloud stepped softly up the stairs and paused at the first room he passed. It was his. But the light was on. He nudged the door open and stepped inside, surprised when he found Tifa herself, seated quietly on his bed, shoulders slumped.

After his eyes had roamed the room and discovered no immediate threats, Cloud lowered his sword and took a tentative step forward. "Tifa?" he heard himself say.

She looked up at him quickly, allowing a small smile on a face stained by tears. "You came," she got out.

He took two more steps forward, still eying everything warily. "Of course I did. You called."

She nodded. He stopped walking. It turned out not to matter, because she got up off the bed and met him where he stood. Her eyes were red and wet. She had a horribly tragic expression on her face. He couldn't help but continue to fear the worst.

"Are the kids -"

"They're fine," she interrupted. "Sleeping."

"Then what -"

Her finger on his lips stopped him cold. "Let me explain," she said slowly. He shifted his stance and was dismayed to realise that, even then, every muscle in his body was on edge. He was tense and defensive, and he couldn't seem to stop. Tifa was staring at the wolf head on his chest, hands absently fingering the black knit that comprised his wardrobe.

"You promised me that you'd always come to save me when I was in trouble. I honestly never expected to need you to keep the promise, but you did. More than once. You've always been there to save my life." She took a breath, seeming to steady herself, and went on, "But you've never _really_ saved me. Because I've never needed it. Until now." Her head lifted slowly up to meet his unwavering gaze, her hands now grabbing his shirt with a grip that would have bruised skin. The material, thankfully, couldn't feel it.

When she finally locked eyes with him, Cloud faltered. She looked _afraid_. And considering how hard she'd been working to avoid looking at him, he knew she was afraid of _him_. Nothing could have been more of a punch to the gut than that. "Tifa?" he said again.

"Save me," she whispered.

"From what?" he asked back in the same hushed tone, bewildered by the entire conversation.

She swallowed. "A broken heart."

He involuntarily twitched. She couldn't possibly mean ... No. Of course not. "What?"

"You've saved my physical life many times, sometimes at great cost to yourself. I know you'd never let anything happen to me. I trust you with my life." Her brown eyes seemed to sear into his soul. He couldn't have looked away if he'd wanted to. Which, for the record, he did. Badly.

"Then what -"

"I ache," she continued. "I ache at the thought of you. I ache at what you'd sacrifice for me, for Denzel or Marlene, for anyone. You have a kind heart." She patted said part of his anatomy through his clothes with a small smile. "Share it with me."

She blinked, and he found himself able to control his gaze. He looked down at the hand resting against his chest, and then back into those beautiful brown eyes. "What are you asking me to do?" he whispered.

"I know there's enough room in that kind heart for more than just protecting mankind. Love me with it."

Looking at her in total mystification, he said, "I do."

But she was already shaking her head. "Not like that. Love me like a man loves a woman. Like a husband loves his wife. Like a -"

He grabbed her hand, still confused, and forced her attention onto his face. "I _do_," he repeated.

A pink tinge raced across her face and her eyes widened. "Oh," she said. "Then save me by letting me love you back."

He dropped her hand. "You mean you don't?"

He was ready to bolt now. This was what he'd driven like a madman for? She must have sensed his intentions, though, because her death-grip on his shirt intensified. "If you think I don't love you like that, you're dumber than most blondes," she practically growled.

A corner of his mouth twitched, which, for Cloud Strife, was akin to hysterical laughter. "So why were you crying?"

He was still looking for a problem to fix, not realising that the conversation they'd just had _was_ the problem to fix. She smiled. "I was afraid you'd run away from me."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't think you loved me like I love you."

He couldn't help it. He rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"I did. After a lot of stewing." She paused in thought. "Does this change our relationship?"

"Should it?"

"I guess not. I mean, we could explore a real relationship."

He shrugged. "Okay."

"And take it step by step. Neither of us is very good at this relationship idea." He shrugged again. "And then eventually you can askmetomarryyou."

He tensed up again. "What?"

"Well, people in love get married. It's a natural thing. And it would be better for the kids that way."

"What's the point of marriage?" Cloud said aloud, though he'd meant to keep that to himself.

"It's a special bond between two people who love each other that ensures they stay faithful to each other no matter what happens. It's important."

Cloud mulled this over for a few seconds, brightened, and said, "Hey, it's like we've been married for years!"

He saw the punch coming at his arm. He didn't try to dodge it. What he _did_ do was carelessly drop his sword on the ground with a clang that probably woke the children. While Tifa gaped at the uncharacteristic treatment of his normally-pristine weapons, he said, "I probably won't be needing that." She looked back up at him and found that he had a genuine smile on his face. It was small, but it was there. "He put his arms around her in a hug and said as he leaned in for a kiss she'd wanted for a long, LONG time, "Now, let's see about saving your heart."


End file.
